SEVEN

SANTINO

I stood there waiting for my son at the top of the staircase. My face burning with rage. “To my office. Now.

He didn’t argue.

Did say a word, just looked at me before walking towards the marble floor towards the West Wing. I walked behind him, my teeth grinding against my jaw so hard it ached. I knew shouting at my son wouldn't help, I needed to use control.

Inside the office, Nico went straight for the liquor cabinet.

Once we got in, my son made his way towards the wine cabinet. Luca was still around after we had finished discussing earlier. It was good that he was here, he would be able to prevent me from murdering my son. I shut the door after we got in, rage settling down my chest.

“Sit down, Nico.”

He didn’t move until he’d poured himself nearly a full glass of bourbon. “You wanted to see me, Papà?”

I poured my own drink, circling behind the desk, trying to breathe through the heat behind my ribs. I always aimed to be composed, calm, deliberate. But my son had a way of shattering that illusion. As did Anastasia, evidently. “Who leads this family?”

“You do,” he answered without hesitation.

“And who is your capo?”

“You are.”

“Then tell me, why the hell did you defy me and take Anastasia out of the cell?”

He drank from his cup before answering.“Añastasia is mine now. My fiancée. She just got here and the first place she sees is a dungeon? Didn't feel right.”

“I decide what is right,” I snapped, raising my injured hand for emphasis. “She stabbed me. In front of my men. A few hours in that cell was nothing compared to what she deserved.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t see her. I think she’s claustrophobic. Or scared of the darSheShe had this look in her eyes….like she was starting ti see things that aren't there.”

I felt guilty but that didn't bother me. I ignored it. There was no room for that. Weakness had no place in this office. Was this Nico’s plan—to rescue the damsel and paint me as the monster?

You are the monster. And of course she should prefer him.

I didn’t know why that thought dug so deep. I wanted them to get along. Their marriage needed to work. Maybe they’d find happiness where Isabella and I never could. I needed heirs. Dio, I was losing my grip.

I gulped a large amount of my drink and let the hotness of the wine burn my anger. “I’m glad you helped her. I’m sure she was thankful.”

His eyes narrowed, sharp and too familiar. “I didn’t do it for gratitude. But now I wonder if that was your plan. Make me look like the hero so she'll fall in love with me or what?”

I never thought of it that way but I wasn't going to admit.

Let him believe I’d thought that far ahead. “She won’t fight you,” I said instead. “Still, I’ll give you a few weeks. Let you both get acquainted before the wedding.”

He raised a brow. “You’re delaying it? That’s unlike you.”

I waved my hand and took a big gulp of my drink, getting ready to tell Nico the important truth. “Añastasia used to have a boyfriend back home.”

He didn’t flinch, just took another measured sip. “So?”

“So she’s not untouched. We should be sure she’s not pregnant with another man’s child before you marry her. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’re really going to let me marry a woman who isn’t pure?”

“It’s not ideal,” I admitted, “but she’s striking, full of fire. Her mother was one of the most renowned women in Italy. Anastasia will be a good wife to you. And marrying her clears the debt with Mancini.”

“And reinforces our ties to Toronto, in case the Canadians ever decide to pull away.”

A slow smile curved my lips. “Exactly. The brotherhood comes first, figlio mio. Always. One day, you’ll sit in this chair and give the orders, as all Ravazzani men have done before you. We serve our ‘ndrina brothers above everything else.”

“I know, Papà. I understand.”

I tapped the desk, watching him closely. “I’ll speak to Gratteri. Have him ease your responsibilities over the next few weeks. That’ll give you time to help Anastasia adjust.”

Nico sat straighter. “That’s not necessary. We’re still finalizing the new club. I’ll be out most nights but home during the day. I’ll spend time with Ana then.”

“Ana?”

“That’s what everyone calls her. I figured you knew.”

No, she hadn’t shared that with me. Between the sedatives, the flight, and the knife in my hand, conversation had been limited. But she’d made time to tell my son. That stung more than it should have.

I cleared my throat. “Fine. You’re dismissed.”

I kept myself on his back and once he was gone. I relaxed back on the chair. “He took that better than expected.”

“He’s loyal,” Luca said. “A good son.” He was. I rubbed my jaw. “it would do us all good if Añastasia likes him.”

“You sound as if you're guilty. Feeding yourself truth.”

I was. Not that I’d admit it out loud. “You’re my cousin and closest ally. But don’t push your luck.”

Luca chuckled. “I’m the only one who tolerates your moods. Speaking of which, Mancini sends his apologies for the escape. Said he’s handled the breach in his wall.”

I grunted, flexing my injured hand. Mancini had misjudged his daughter. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. “Good. He better keep a closer eye on his other two girls.”

“He also insists on attending the wedding. Said it’s non-negotiable.”

Che palle. Mancini didn’t get to demand anything. Not from me. “I’ll think about it.”

“He’s her father, Rav. No man wants to be banned from his daughter’s wedding.”

I gave Luca a hard look. “Don’t you have things to do?”

There was always work. We had hundreds of operations stretching from Siderno to Milan, all the way to Sao Paulo and Montreal. Our organization moved more heroin and cocaine than most could even imagine. And Luca had his hands deep in it.

“Not tonight,” he said, standing. “Maria wants to watch a film together. I promised.”

Luca’s marriage had fared far better than mine—he’d actually loved his wife. Their three sons were already embedded deep in the workings of our ‘ndrina. I liked to pretend I wasn’t envious. That was a d*mn lie.

“I keep telling you,” I said with a dry smirk, “get yourself a mistress. Much less hassle than a wife.”

“No need,” he said as he stood. “I’ll leave the side pieces to you, cousin.”

“It’s not natural for a Calabrian man to stay faithful that long. Sooner or later, your balls will dry up and fall off.”

He chuckled on his way to the door. “Maria would cut them off herself if I ever tried. Sleep well, Rav.”

I waved my head and kept my eyes on my empty wine glass, lost in thoughts. A feeling still settled down my chest and seconds after seconds, it kept getting heavier—guilt, rage maybe. My limbs were leaden, but my nerves were on fire. Sleep was out of the question.

I had just one thing left for me to do now.

I took my phone, scrolling my contact list and started moving my fingers swiftly when I saw the contact I was searching for.

FIFTEEN MINUTES. BE READY TO BE F*CK*D HARD.